The Beauty of an Unbought Moon
by Electric Muse
Summary: "I'm slammed with an identity that can no longer say a word; mute with responsibility." - Kate Millett   Garrus x OC. Third person. Second chapter up!
1. Chapter 1

I first played Mass Effect 2 about a year ago (now playing ME3), and it absolutely blew my mind. Of course, ever since then, I've had various characters bopping about my head (some Shepard, some not), and I finally fell into a good place with this one; she was someone I wanted to write about. I want to tell her story, because I think it's a good one to tell.

Disclaimer: Terpsichore is my creation, no one is allowed to use her without my permission. All other characters belong to Bioware.

You might notice that my Shepard is a little different from the one portrayed in the video games. I tried to give him a little more of a realistic edge (if you're looking for an alignment, he's a Paragade; mostly Paragon slightly Renegade). In this story, I'm attempting to give a little more depth to each character's story. Feel free to leave reviews saying whether or not you felt I've managed to do it.

We begin just before the attack on Horizon, a weary Shepard slogging his way through the next Dossier mission...

**Mission 1: Afterlife Bar**

_**Dossier: The Vigilante**_

_- Melee expert_

_- Stealth and guerilla warfare expertise_

_Terpsichore (no last name given) is given credit as being the most efficient stealth and melee expert in the Terminus Systems, despite the lack of official training. She is currently working at Afterlife on Omega._

John Shepard looked up from the datapad, the Afterlife complex quivering as the deep bass from the dance music thundered inside. He wondered how Aria hadn't gone deaf yet. Garrus and Mordin stood behind him, stretching themselves out, getting ready for more fighting. John had retrieved the two of them inside of 36 hours, as well as Zaeed Masani, and there was only one Dossier left for Omega. The Vigilante, as she was called, and she sounded dangerous.

Earlier, John had the Normandy take to the outer reaches of the system as Garrus was getting patched up. While that was happening, he used his Spectre status to find out more about the Vigilante. Terpsichore, no last name or race given, showed up one day at Afterlife as the new employee. She was an extremely capable fighter right off the bat, and Aria would often send her and other thugs to take out her opposition. There were vids of a woman in a hood popping kneecaps with thermal rounds from a pistol. John had a hard time imagining this woman, most likely an asari, dancing in some sleazy strip joint like Afterlife.

"It should be interesting to see if this asari measures up to Liara." Garrus said. "I heard that she was doing well on Illium. A step above this place aesthetically, but still takes a healthy dose of guts to survive, nonetheless thrive there."

"Sure she's an asari?" Mordin piped, as they approached the door to Afterlife. "Could easily be another race. Drell known for abilities in stealth, as well as—"

They were stopped by a batarian at the front, who told them that Aria was out for the next hour, but that they should wait at the bar to the left.

"Why the one on the left?" John asked.

"Aria _specifically_ asked that you sit at the one on the left."

John and Garrus exchanged a glance, but continued in and sat at the left-most bar in any case. The turian at the bar looked them over, "What'll it be, boys?"

"Whatever you have on tap." John grunted.

"Cana on the rocks." Garrus said, sitting himself down next to John. Mordin just shook his head.

The turian nodded and turned, shouting, "**Chor!**" A human girl a few steps from him turned around and frowned, walking up very close to him and whispering something in his ear.

He shook his head, "Sorry, keep forgetting. Cana on the rocks and human tap; get on it."

She rolled her eyes and went to the back of the bar, grabbing a bottle of Cana. John looked at the turian and asked, "Was there a reason you yelled at her when she was standing less than a meter away from you?"

He coughed, "I keep forgetting that she's not deaf, is all."

"That's... an odd thing to forget." Garrus said.

The turian waved his hands awkwardly, "No, she had her throat slashed by batarians when she was young. Didn't die obviously, but her vocal chords seriously suffered. She learned universal sign language to communicate, though she can whisper now. But, you know, mostly deaf people use sign language. So I keep forgetting... that she isn't _actually _deaf."

"How in the hell did she survive?" John said, stunned as the casual nature of the turian's story telling.

"To be honest, no idea. Tough as a krogan, that one."

Chor came back with the drinks, put them on the bar, and left without making eye contact to tend to another customer. Garrus and John picked up their drinks, toasted, and downed as much as they could. The turian turned away from them, but kept an eye on the small group as they talked amongst themselves.  
>Soon Aria arrived. She glanced at the turian behind the bar, who nodded, and then looked at the group, "Shepard, follow me."<p>

Shepard swallowed the rest of his drink and followed after Aria, leaving Garrus grumbling about how he was 'always paying for the drinks' as he shelled out the few credits he had on him.

Aria sat at the center of her leather throne, Shepard sitting beside her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before opening her eyes and giving Shepard a piercing look.

"So, now you want Terpsichore." She said, voice low and predatory. "You don't know what you're asking, Commander."

"Aria, I understand that Terpsichore has done a lot for you." He said, keeping an even tone and making sure there was respect in his voice. "She sounds like just the kind of asset I'll need to combat the Reapers. If you let me talk to her, she and I can figure out—"

"No." Aria quickly cut him off. "I guess Cerberus never informed you: Terpsichore was sold to me. She is a slave. If you want her, you pay me her worth."

John started slightly. Now Cerberus had him buying slaves? That was one of reasons why he fought against Cerberus; they condone some of the worst actions in the galaxy under the guise of the betterment of humanity. Meanwhile, they were trading aliens around like common supplies.

John sighed heavily, "Fine, how much do you want for her?"

"300,000 credits."

"... Excuse my language, but are you _shitting_ me?"

Aria shook her head, "Terpsichore does good work. She's worth something to a lot of slavers out there, _and I will get what she's worth_."

"... I need to go convene with my comrades for a moment. Excuse me." John stepped off the throne and down into the bar area, where Garrus and Mordin were discussing guns.

"Gentlemen..." John said. "How many credits do we have left after our splurge at the Citadel?"

"Well..." Garrus started, plunking a couple buttons on his omni-tool. "After we bought my gorgeous new rifle scope, Mordin's omni-tool upgrades, Jack's special biotic ampliphiers, Grunt's specialized krogan shotgun and medical supplies for Dr. Chakwas... We come in just a little under broke."

John's head dropped loudly onto the bar, "Shit."

"We're all stocked up and there are plenty of paying jobs, Shepard." Garrus reassured.

"This girl we're after? She's a slave. She's worth 300,000 credits." John groaned.

Garrus staggered, "That's... more than I've probably made in my life. C-Sec never paid that well to begin with, but spirits... You _have_ to be a criminal to have that much money just lying around. Or a politician. Same difference, I know."

Mordin put his hand to his chin, "Must be something Aria wants done, that's worth that much."

John looked up and slammed his hand onto the bar, "Of_ course_. Aria knows I don't have that much money. I'll be back."

He straightened himself out and swaggered back to Aria, sitting down next to her with a knowing smirk lingering on his lips, "What do you need taken care of, Aria?"

Aria smirked in return, "That's what I like to hear." She stood up, and looked out onto the dance floor. "Some asari girls have started their own club. At first, I didn't think they would be a threat. Their business plan would fail, and they would disappear. But the Eclipse sisters are backing them, and their business is starting to take off. Their prices are low, desperate, and people are falling for it. I can't risk being directly responsible for their fates." She looked at Shepard. "I make as much as Terpsichore is worth in a week. But _only_ when Afterlife is the only club people want to go to. Shut the Eclipse sisters down, and their bar will fall with them. I don't care how you do it."

John stood up, "And then you'll give me the girl?"

Aria looked away, "She'll be all yours."

John nodded, and returned to his comrades. They looked at him, stood up, and followed him out. "Eclipse sisters. Doesn't matter how we take them out." Garrus and Mordin nodded.

**xxx**

It was easy enough to track down the Eclipse mercs that were running the new club. It was called "Capricorn", and Aria had been right; they were practically handing out lap dances. The asari that they had employed all looked young enough, but they were ragged. Their skimpy outfits were stained with alcohol and other un-classifiable liquids; their scalps had lost their lustrous shimmer, and after hours stumbling around they were taking off their 5-inch stiletto heels and rubbing their feet, which were blistered and calloused.

"If this isn't the saddest thing in the galaxy, I don't know what is." Garrus said, shaking his head.

"We should find the head of the Eclipse sisters as soon as we can." John said, rubbing the back of his neck in irritation. "I think Aria's starting to get angry with me."

"Right..." Garrus murmured, tapping something on his visor as his pupils constricted. "According to the maps of the area, the main offices are right above the... _Blowjob Arenas._ Just tasteless, honestly."

The three of them paid the meager entrance fee of 2 credits per, and made their way through the overcrowded dance floors to the stairs near the Blowjob Arenas. They all averted their eyes from the doors and quickly made their way up the empty staircase as they pulled out their weapons. The doors to the main offices were open, a couple high ranking Eclipse asari with their backs to them. Garrus and John broke out their sniper rifles and took far positions as Mordin crept in close, tech at the ready.

"On three." John said, peering through the scope and lining his crosshairs up with one of the three Eclipse mercs heads.

"One... Two..."

"_Three."_ John felt the cold steel of a barrel against his temple and he sighed, an Eclipse merc standing proudly above him.

"I knew it wouldn't be easy." Quicker than ever, Shepard whipped out his pistol and shot the merc in the face, alarming the others, but not before Garrus got a round into one of their skulls and Mordin froze another with a cryo blast, though she wouldn't stay frozen long unless—

_brrrap_

A quick SMG three round burst from Shepard cracked the frozen merc's head, and she was down. The last merc was cowering behind one of the desks, too afraid to pop up even for a second.

"Stay back!" She cried, pistol shaking in her hands. "I won't warn you again!"

John took a breath, and called back, "We don't want to hurt you. Aria is gunning for you and the rest of the Eclipse sisters backing this club; she wants you out. If you surrender yourself and the asari running the show, we will show mercy and let you go."

The asari merc calmed her breathing, and called, "The two asari will be back soon. They have the deed to this complex hidden somewhere, though with the low fees for just about everything, and the amount of damage the place has taken, it's been draining more money than its been earning. The asari were about to go to Aria anyway."

The merc didn't hear anything. She slowly poked her head from cover. They were gone, and she sighed.

"Thanks for the info." A three round shot through the temple, and she was down. John put the SMG away and turned to face his comrades.

Mordin was surprised, "Didn't take you for one who would break a promise so easily, Commander."

Shepard looked at Mordin, and averted his gaze to the floor grumbling, "I really don't like mercs..."

The three waited in the main office, Shepard swiveling back and forth in a spinning chair, Garrus cleaning off his new sniper rifle scope, and Mordin keeping an eye on the only door in or out. A shriek from the hallway meant the asari were back, and Shepard stood to face them. He could see a pair of blue hands holding a badly maintained pistol poking out from the doorway, and he shook his head.

"You're outmanned and outgunned. My name is Commander Shepard of the Normandy SR-2, come out with your weapons holstered and your hands above your head." He said in the most authoritative voice he could muster. In an instant, the gun was dropped, and the shaking girls came out from behind the door's archway. They looked terrified, and John scratched the back of his neck. Aria was such a bully.

"I don't know what we did, but we are _so sorry_, Commander Shepard." One of the two said, her bottom lip quivering.

John hated seeing girls cry. He sighed in frustration, "You two are fine. Just hand over the deed for this complex, and get out of here."

The two girls nodded quickly and shoved a painting of the Presidium on the wall aside, revealing a hidden safe. One of them opened it while the other grabbed a couple things from the desks. They handed over the datapad and were gone quicker than one could say—

**xxx**

"Easier than expected." John said, handing the datapad to Aria. "You're kind of a bully, you know that?"

Aria scanned the data, and answered without looking at him, "I'm queen. You don't fuck with the queen's source of income." She handed the datapad to her batarian thug and smiled a venomous smile. "Terpsichore belongs to you now." Her turian thug slapped another datapad into Shepard's hand. "She'll meet you at the Normandy. Take care."

Shepard input the data into his omni-tool; holding a piece of slaver data felt dirty and he was going to get rid of it as soon as he could. Finally done on Omega, he headed back with Mordin and Garrus to meet their new crewmate.

"A hundred credits it's an asari." Garrus bet while they waited at the entrance to the hanger.

"Two hundred it's drell." Mordin upped the ante.

Garrus laughed, "I'll see that bet. Shepard? Care to get in on this wager?"

John shook his head, "If I join, the Normany as a whole will be negative 400 credits in the mire. So no thanks, I'm good."

In that instant, a hooded figure arrived at the end of the hallway. The three glanced down the hall. She was wearing gloves, and it was too dark to see the color of the skin on her face. She wore trashy heels like the asari at the other club were wearing, but unlike them, she walked in them as if she were walking on bare feet. The glare from the lighting lit up a blue painted line on her bottom lip, and Garrus grinned, "Pay up, Doctor."

"Don't count chickens yet." Mordin said, pointing as she pulled off her hood.

Human.

She approached them, and whispered, "Good to be working with you, Commander Shepard. My name is Terpsichore, but please, call me Chor." Her voice carried just above the bass beats from Afterlife.

'_The mute girl from the bar...'_ John blinked a couple times, and then broke out into a smile, "Good to meet you, Chor. For future reference, I am fluent in USL (Universal Sign Language). Good to have another _human_ on board." He stressed the 'human' part, and Garrus rolled his eyes as Mordin placed his hand on his chin and analyzed the young woman.

"Mind if I sign?" She whispered once more, and John shook his head.

She quickly broke into a rapid stream of hand signals, lips moving just as quickly as she mouthed the words she signed. "_I appreciate the opportunity to assist you in the attack on the Collector base, Commander Shepard. I've heard good things so far, as I'm sure you've heard things about me. I hope I live up to your expectations."_

John almost had trouble keeping up with her signs, but just as he was about to react, Garrus took the lead. "We are happy to have you with us, Chor. Shepard has researched your abilities extensively, and we look forward to seeing them first hand in combat."

Shepard gave Garrus looks of surprise.

Garrus blinked, "What? This visor isn't just for its entertainment value and high quality audio; it actually has practical uses, like USL translation. We used to get all sorts of people at C-Sec, USL was a common language."

Mordin nodded, "Am also knowledgeable of common USL phrases; used it often when in hostile territory with Special Tasks Group."

Chor was unsurprised; she had heard from Cerberus that a few of the team members already knew USL, which would be helpful to her. _"If you don't mind, I'd like to throw what few effects I have onto a bed or cot or floor..."_

"No problem." John opened the door to the hanger, and the four walked inside.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Mission 2: Normandy SR-2**_

"Jacob, this is Terpsichore." Shepard gestured to the girl. "She's the melee expert from Omega." They were in the comm. room, where the Illusive Man insisted that each new crewmember be taken first so that placing could be decided by Jacob and EDI.

Chor cleared her throat and hesitantly held out a hand, "Pleased to meet you."

Jacob firmly took her hand in his and gave it one solid shake, "The pleasure's mine, ma'am. I understand you requested to be placed in the gym."

She nodded, and glanced at Shepard to act as translator. He nodded in return, and as she signed at him, he translated:

"I understand that there are emergency bunkers in the gym, and since I will be spending most of my time there anyway, I figured it would be the best... calamine."

Chor gave Shepard an odd look and slowly signed the last word.

Shepard cleared his throat, "Sorry, 'best fit'."

Jacob couldn't contain a chuckle, and replied, "That sounds fine to me. We'll have some of the crew set up a room for you. EDI."

EDI's hologram popped up, "Understood, Mr. Taylor. Miss Chambers, our on-board psychiatrist, would like to speak with you as well, Miss Terpsichore. I understand that she too is fluent in USL, and would like to get a handle on your situation."

Chor did not have a reaction to this. She bowed slightly, excusing herself from the room. Jacob looked at Shepard, "Commander, you mentioned something abnormal about her induction into the crew?"

John brought the slaver data up on the holo-screen, "I want her freed. I want this contract gone."

"... She's a slave? That's... heavy." Jacob said, skimming the contract. "Doesn't look like she belonged to many people; she stayed with the batarians until she was 18, when Aria bought her... Freeing slaves is more difficult than you would think, Commander."

"I don't care how you do it. I don't want slave trading to be held against me when the Alliance finally finds us and court marshals us for just about everything else we're doing." John grumbled.

Jacob saluted him, "Of course, Commander."

**xxx**

Terpsichore made her way to the gym, taking in every detail of the Normandy as she could. She would have to start planning escape routes, planting emergency supplies, saving what credits Aria had tossed her in order to buy supplies to hide... She had made her goodbyes with Aria brief, though something about the asari seemed sad when she left. She had been working under Aria nine years, not long in asari time but long enough to develop a connection. Both of them were lonely, isolated creatures, and maybe that was what brought them together.

In any case, Terpsichore soon found herself at the gym. It was empty, save the turian she had met earlier. He was there, his fingers lightly curled into fists as he wailed on one of the punching bags. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and over the bandaging on his face. He paused for moment and gently flicked the sweat away with his talons, drawing his eyes to meet those of the human melee expert. She flinched slightly back, quickly moving her eyes from his and walking toward her room... which brought her right past him.

He stared at her, mildly amused as she walked by without a word. He shook his head, and said as she passed him, "I don't bite or anything... If that's what you're afraid of."

She stopped and looked him in the eye for the first time, and he couldn't help but notice how dark her eyes were. He could barely see the ring of her pupil.

"_You scare me." _She signed, and Garrus faltered. _"You hold a lot of pain inside you, but you don't let anyone see it. I don't want to be around you if you decide to express your grief through violence."_

Garrus was thrown. How had she read him so easily? He straightened, "Where would get an idea like that?"

She approached him suddenly, and pointed to his flared mandibles, _"Your mandibles are lower than they should be... You haven't been smiling much; otherwise the muscles in your face would naturally lift them higher. I am sorry for your loss, whatever it may be."_

Garrus said nothing. Turians were hard enough to read, even by other turians; if his mandibles were lower than a normal turian's, it was only by millimeters. It was old way of discerning mood in a turian, he was surprised she even knew about it.

He tried to deflect the accusation, "You sure that it wasn't the fact that I took an airship missile to the face?"

She didn't fall for it, _"On both sides?"_

"Alright, I give up. Yes, I... dealt with some horrible losses on Omega. But who doesn't have baggage? I'm sure have your share of the stuff."

She blinked, "_... I leave my baggage in my room."_

Despite himself, Garrus laughed, "No... Not that kind of baggage. I mean emotional trauma. Don't you have any?"

She seemed surprised, _"I don't..."_ She paused her signing, and put her hands down for a moment. She shook her head, and said in her whispy voice, "No one has ever asked me about my past."

Garrus leaned against a wall, "Then isn't it about time someone did?"

Terpsichore was extremely confused. She had been a slave for her entire life; no one cared about the life of a slave. She had come to expect a certain demeanor about the people she belonged to. Aria treated her how she treated the rest of the world, as if she were expendable; she didn't mind it as long as she had food to eat and a bed to return to. The batarians were a whole different story, but none of them ever wanted to know about her. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable under the gaze of the turian. He expected something from her, something she never thought about, something she might as well have not had in the first place. To her, the past was simply what had transpired that made her what she was today. To others, it could be confused in many different ways.

So to Garrus' question, she answered, "No. I don't think it is." She walked from the gym, leaving a highly confused turian standing next to a torn punching bag.

**xxx**

In the next few days, the crew became well aware of Terpsichore's odd outlook on life. She treated her own life as if it was expendable; she nearly ate turian and quarian dextro-rich food in the mess hall, and when one of the members of the crew stopped her, she simply grabbed the next food item and walked off without even a 'thank you'. However, she showed some compassion to those around her. She felt for Jack, who was used for her potential and abandoned for her human faults. Joker and her got along rather well, their disabilities connecting them on the most basic level. Joker would gab about the crap he put up with during flight training, and Chor would just sit there and listen.

She never got used to people asking her about herself. Even the simple "How are you?" threw her off, and she decided to bring it to John Shepard's attention. She found him in his cabin, grumbling to himself as he expertly cleaned every inch of his assault rifle, each piece lined up on a towel on his desk in front of him. He looked up and offered a tired grin, "What can I do for you, Chor?"

She sat down next to him, and signed, _"Commander, I belong to you now. You have not had me on even a basic mission yet; I do not understand my part in your plan. If it pleases you, I would be honored to perform some task for you or your crew."_

John winced; meek and blindly obedient women bothered him. He sighed, scratched back of his neck and said, "Terpsichore, we're effectively freeing you from being a slave... tonight. I was going to surprise you, but clearly... You have a different plan."

Shock flashed in her eyes, and she panicked, _"Commander, I never asked to be freed! This life is all I know! What will become of me? I will be a shell, meaningless and without purpose!"_

"Whoa whoa, slow down." He said. Her frantic breathing and crazy eyes were giving him a headache. "Look... I don't know what your..." he cleared his throat. "_Owners_ have been telling you, but you can have a life outside of slavery."

She quieted down and listened to him speak, his blue eyes calming and heavy-lidded.

"It's easy to be someone's pawn; live without regret or remorse because you know that in the end, you might have held the gun, but your employer pulled the trigger. You haven't had to make decisions yet, so you don't know what it's like to bear the consequences of your actions... or the pride and glory of your successes. You're already a shell, Chor. I'm here to help you snap out of it."

She sat there and looked at him for a moment. His lips were drawn thin and tight with anticipation as she stared. But his eyes were tired, pleading; as if so many things had gone wrong that he was beginning to give up hope. And yet his body was taut, ready for action, no matter the cost. He sat there in front of her, a man beaten down by the weight of the responsibilities people forced upon him. He was a mess... But even as he sat there, waiting for her to respond, she could see the cogs turning, his mind in so many places at once. The girl he fell in love with, their happiness as they lived the dream, side by side as Alliance soldiers, the most difficult decision he had ever made to leave her, alone, to die on Virmire...

"_What do you need me to do in order for this transaction to happen?" _She signed.

He breathed a sigh of relief and pulled up the data on his terminal, "Just a couple signatures, maybe an initial or twelve that basically indicate that it is both mine and your wish to terminate the slavery contract and create an official record of your life..." He smiled sideways. "Starting today. How old are you anyway?"

"..." She actually sat there and had to count on her fingers, before answering, _"Twenty-seven."_

"Better late than never."

For the next three hours, the pair sat there and read through the contracts that would unbind her from slavery, and spelled out all the rights that would be afforded to her as a citizen of Earth. They read through every single right, and Terpsichore could feel her eyes watering at the sight of it all.

She would be given universal health care, available from any and all health care providers in the Sol System and Citadel Space.

She would have a right to a trial if she was ever found guilty of a crime, and she would get a lawyer to defend her.

She could buy property, own animals, marry who she wanted and had the right...

"... to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." John finished. "That actually came from our own constitution down on Earth. Those founding father were magnificent bastards. So, sign on the dotted line at the bottom, and you'll be a free woman. You'll probably want to choose a last name as well; whatever you put down will be yours... until you decide to change it. But that is a horrendous process, so I would suggest picking a good one right now."

Terpsichore stared at the console, oblivious to what her last name should be.

"_How did you even get this contract in such a short amount of time?" _She signed.

"Cerberus may not be good for much, but they get things done. Stop stalling, just put..." He thought for a moment. "Your best friend's name as your last name. That's got to be fine, right?"

Terpsichore frowned slightly; she never really remembered having friends on the batarian slaver ship when she was young. There was, however, a boy who liked to follow her around when they were about 13. He had been sold rather quickly, but she had found herself missing his company, his lazy eye, his snorting laugh...

So she typed in, "**Terpsichore Katalysator.**"

John hummed, "That doesn't sound like a human name."

Terpsichore shook her head, _"I didn't really have any friends on the batarian ship. The only boy who wanted to be around me was a drell, and he was a little touched in the head. Katalysator was named by one of the more cruel batarian slavers; the name means 'one who is accurate and wise', which was nothing like him. He was stupid, but kind; happy, but very ugly... I heard he was sold to salarians for testing purposes."_

John leaned back in his chair as EDI entered the contracts into Earth's filing systems. "Not a happy end, I would imagine... But his life made an impact on yours, which has to mean something."

"_Not everything has to have meaning, Commander." _She signed slowly. _"His death was meaningless. Aria told me what salarians do with unwanted drell: they trap them in high-humidity vacuums, and watch as Kepral's Syndrome kills them. Then they examine the bodies, take notes, and move on. It is... sad."_

John was at a loss, he started to say something, but Chor cut him off. _"That reminds me: I'm having some trouble with the crew..."_

"Are they... what, making fun of you?" John asked, wondering which of his crew would stoop that low.

"_No... I don't know what to tell them when they ask me to divulge personal information."_

"... Like what?"

"_They ask me things like 'How are you?' and it makes me very uncomfortable."_

John raised an eyebrow at this, "They're just trying to get to know you, Chor. Look, I know you've spent your _entire life_ as a slave, and that makes it difficult to even _want_ to connect with people." He took a breath. "I'll practice with you. I'll tell you something about myself, and then you tell me something about you. Doesn't have to be invasive, but you should practice this stuff." His terminal 'pinged' as the contract was accepted, and he gave a sideways smile. "You're a free woman now. Might as well get used to it."

Terpsichore swallowed, looking at the confirmation on the screen. She read it through quickly; she would get her own identification chip pre-installed into her own omni-tool, which she could pick up at the Citadel within the next few weeks...  
>She nodded, and John cleared his throat, "I was an orphan on Earth, taking odd jobs where I could. Soon as I hit 18, I joined the military, was offered N7 training, took it, Skillian Blitz, Normandy, Saren, and here I am today." He gestured up and down his slouching body, "In all my glory. Now you go. Tell me literally anything."<p>

Terpsichore thought for a second, and then brought her hands up and signed, _"I am immune to the negative effects of substances with dextro-amino acids in them."_

This piqued John's interest, and he sat up, "Really? How's that?"

"_When..." _Terpsichore took a breath. _"When I was young, on the batarian pirate ship, they would often goad us young ones into doing risky and unsafe things for their amusement. They hadn't bothered singling me out at first, and I took that opportunity to build up an immunity to things they liked us human children to do. I consumed a very small amount of dextro-amino foodstuffs every night. On good nights, I would go to bed with a stomachache. Once or twice I went into anaphylactic shock and the other kids had to watch me have heart attacks. Luckily, they were very mild, and the batarians would often find me in the morning and throw me into their rudimentary hospice, where they would diagnose me with anxiety and dope me up with as many painkillers as possible. After a while, my body adjusted, and when I was finally immune to it—"_

She was cut off by a crackling on the PA system, and Joker's voice came through, "Commander, Miranda is throwing a fit in her office. You should probably talk to her soon to decrease the chances of her pretty painted nails clawing your new face out."

John was snapped from the trance Terpsichore put him under with her story, and sighed, "Tell her I'll be there in a moment." He looked at Terpsichore. "So ah... Thanks for telling me about your past. I hope you'll tell me the rest soon."

She nodded, _"I think I shall. Thank you Commander, I will... return to my room and contemplate my newfound freedom."_

"Sounds like a plan. I'll walk you down, since it looks like I'm about to go speak with that hellcat Miranda anyway."

Terpsichore didn't laugh, but she signed back, _"Hell... cat? Her jowls are a little more dog-like, if you ask me."_

Even though she was completely serious, John laughed. He walked down to the Crew's Quarters with her, said his goodbyes, and sulked towards Miranda's office.


End file.
